


Lock In My Love

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternating fluff and angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Derogatory Language, Drabble Collection, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: “Would you ever consider,” Joe’s fingers drew patterns on Nicky’s spine, complex curling lines that sent sparks through loose limbs, “a more permanent mark?”No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY: Collars
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947016
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Lock In My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by poemsingreenink on [ my Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com)

“Now what—” Amidst the noise of shifting metal as the men rummaged through Nicky’s go-bag, moving guns out of their way, “—is this?”

Nicky peered out of eyes that were swiftly swelling shut, and felt his stomach drop, cold fear filling his veins at the sight of his collar. It was a soft supple leather, chosen by both of them, but bile rose in Nicky’s throat at the sight of it now. Joe would find him, but would it be in time? A low chuckle spread around the small room, fists curling around wickedly sharp blades, eyes fixed on Nicky.

* * *

“Would you ever consider,” Joe’s fingers drew patterns on Nicky’s spine, complex curling lines that sent sparks through loose limbs, “a more permanent mark?”

“Hmm?” Nicky didn’t raise his face from the cushion, his legs still tangled with Joe's, sweat drying on his skin.

“I know a tattoo isn’t an option.” The mark was long gone, but Nicky remembered the line carefully drawn across his collarbone, a path for Joe to kiss, even after he died and the line was wiped from his skin. Joe's touch travelled up his spine, feather light, to press against the back of Nicky’s neck.

* * *

“Should have known you were a freak.”

Nicky kept his eyes closed, his breathing steady even as he listened to the jeers and taunts. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before, but he missed the warmth of Joe’s skin next to his, missed the sound of his voice raised in passionate defence of them. 

Joe would find him. Nicky had faith that he would. The years may pass them by, and cities would rise and fall, but Nicky always held onto his faith that Joe would be by his side.

“So what should we do with you next, you pig.”

* * *

  
“Just let me look.”

Embarrassment curled through Nicky’s veins, old shame he couldn’t quite shake, but he let Joe pull his hands away from his face.

“So beautiful.” Joe’s voice was reverent and soft, stretching up from his seat on Nicky’s hips—warm and solid, pressing him into the mattress—to run gentle fingers across the necklace of bruises he had just bitten into Nicky’s neck. 

“You’re the beautiful one,” Nicky told him, using the loose grip on Joe’s free hand to press a kiss to his hand. Joe laughed, and held up the collar, a questioning look in his eye.

“Ready?”

* * *

Nicky coughed, drawing what fraction of breath he could back into his lungs before the collar tightened once more. Mocking laughter filtered in as the edges of his vision turned grey, eyes rolling without his control in their sockets as he struggled against them. 

The pressure around his neck slackened and Nicky gasped for air before it resumed. Not enough to kill him, but enough to keep him on the edge of unconsciousness for what felt like hours. He just had to wait for a bit longer, just a bit longer and his family would find him. They had to.

* * *

Joe locked the collar securely around his neck, running a finger along the inside edge, testing the fit. It was humbling to have his entire attention focused on Nicky, a sensation that never failed to make his toes curl and warmth blossom in his chest. 

“Just say the word, my love, my one and only, and we’ll stop.”

“I know.” Nicky pressed his neck against the unyielding leather, before he reached up to pull Joe down to him to kiss him properly until a low groan rumbled through Joe’s chest, teeth gently clicking together as he pushed himself impossibly closer.

* * *

Nicky’s lips formed the word, their safe word to make everything stop, mind torn between the past and the present as he hovered the grey line between nothingness and an existence of agonising pain. He knew there were cuts covering his chest and back—old blood covering the empty spaces where previous wounds lay—but it was distant. 

Gunfire pressed against his ears like the ringing that was filling his mind, and Nicky collapsed forward, gasping for air once again, unable to form the word that would make everything stop.

“Nicolo, my love, I’m here. I’m here.”

“It hurts. Make it stop.”

* * *

“Where were you? Why didn’t you stop?”

Nicky’s words were slurred, barely audible as he gasped for breath, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he succumbed to the lack of oxygen. Joe’s fingers slid against the belt buckle, metal slick with blood and sweat, cursing every deity he could think of.

“He’s not dead.” Andy laid a hand against the small of his back, drawing him away—a few inches but it felt like miles—so Booker could undo the lock. “He’s coming home.”

“Are they all dead?”

“Each and everyone.” Andy kissed his temple, smoothing down his curls.

* * *

“Joe?”

The sunlight was warm against Nicky’s skin, the air carried the heavy scent of jasmine and the shampoo Joe favoured in this decade. 

“I’m here.” Joe’s knees impacted against the wood floor, hands shaking as they wound into Nicky’s, thumbs running across the ridges of his knuckles. 

“I was waiting for you,” Nicky grinned, feeling the edges weaken as the old fear crept in. He knew better than to dismiss it, had carried old torments with him for some time before.

“I know. I love you.” Joe carefully cupped Nicky’s jaw to press kiss after kiss to his skin.

* * *

“I can’t wear a collar. Not for a while.” Nicky knew he didn’t need to say it out loud, knew that Joe could read him with a look, but it helped. 

“Okay.” Joe paused, arms still tangled in his shirt, and Nicky leant forward to kiss the curve of his shoulder. 

“I want to fuck you until neither of us can walk.” Joe’s eyes darkened at Nicky’s words, pupils blown wide. Nicky thought Joe was beautiful in so many different ways, but groaning beneath him, nails scoring lines down his back as they moved together, was one of his favourites.


End file.
